Moya outplays off-key Scud

Mark Philippoussis lunges for a forehand during his loss to Carlos Moya yesterday.
Picture: Ray Kennedy

Mark Philippoussis had much in his favour yesterday. He was on his favoured surface, in his home town, against a Spaniard who had never been past Wimbledon's second round in six attempts and had a record that suggested an allergy to grass. Philippoussis held a 4-2 record over Carlos Moya, too.

Yet, as those who have followed the mercurial Philippoussis closely would know, that while adversity and low expectations are wont to produce his best, such favourable circumstances are sometimes the recipe for a crash.

Yesterday, with all factors pointing to a Scud victory, he suffered, not the usual knee or neck injury, but a bout of mediocrity. It lasted only two sets, but this attack of poor form was enough to sink the Scud in four sets; the two-sets-to-love hole buried him.

For those opening two sets, a rash of double faults were followed by errant volleys and he appeared, as he can on down days, to be cumbersome and lethargic.

Philippoussis was not terrible, just slightly off-key. In the furnace of high-stakes Davis Cup, to be even a little out of tune often equals defeat. Most crucially, he did not rise for the big points.

And it must be said that while Moya had demonstrated little competence on grass, he is still the world's No.7 player, with a French Open title in his resume, and a fondness for Melbourne Park, albeit on the rubbery stuff they use in January.

Afterwards, Moya was asked what he thought of grass now. "Well, I start to like it now," he replied.

Moya made the plain observation that Philippoussis "was not playing very well" early in the match, but that the Australian was "coming back"' thereafter.

The Philippoussis momentum was halted in the fourth set tie-breaker, which Moya won (7-4) and took a match that briefly threatened to turn epic.

If there had been a fifth set, Moya said, "anything" might have happened. Moya knew this from experience, bitter and sweet; he had twice lost Davis Cup matches from a lead of two sets to love and, in the semi-final tie against Argentina, he had resurrected himself from a two-set deficit to beat Mariano Zabaleta.

Moya was not about to test his nerves again, or to let the crowd lift the local.

In most matches on grass, the serve is usually the most significant barometer of each player's progress. Moya might have a grass phobia, but he does serve with serious power and will get his share of easy points.

So it proved. No less significant was the man of Majorca's capacity for returning serve. He managed to have Philippoussis in trouble often - aided by the double faults (15) and low first-serve percentage (53) - and while he converted only three of 18 break points, few players manage to get 18 opportunities to break the Scud's serve.

The Philippoussis of yore would have lost in straight sets and headed out to a nightclub. This grittier version hung on and hung on, waiting for Moya to weaken, for his touch to reappear and for the momentum to shift.

Finally, late in the third set, it happened. He broke and took the set. Still, to continue the nightlife theme, it was a case of staying alive. Was it too late?